


See You In Hell

by ThePrettyTomboy



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, M/M, Non-Consensual Kissing, Zexal Rarepair Challenge, stuff goes boom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2014-06-27
Packaged: 2018-02-06 10:20:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1854475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePrettyTomboy/pseuds/ThePrettyTomboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Admiral Durbe catches up with the ignoble pirate captain Vector.</p>
            </blockquote>





	See You In Hell

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the ZeXal Rarepair Challenge at ygomonthly.

          The ship rocked beneath Durbe’s feet, swaying gently with the waves as he extended his brass telescope and raised it to his eye. There was no mistaking the galley on the horizon, its deep plum sails at full mast and its oars dipping into the ocean below at a frenzied pace. Durbe supposed his vessel had been spotted. “All hands on deck!” he called, the declaration echoing from the mouths of his crew. “Lower the sails, man the wheel! We’re heading due west!” He handed the telescope off to his first mate and folded his hands at the small of his back, watching as his men carried out his orders with military precision. Durbe glanced up to the sails, filling with wind and pushing the ship forward.

          The spot on the horizon grew closer as the ocean roared in Durbe’s ears. He was able to make out moving spots on the deck of the galley, able to hear the faintest of shouts over the roar of the wind and the slapping of the waves. “Ready the gangplanks!” He pulled out his flintlock and checked that it was loaded before holstering it and unsheathing his cutlass. The pirates were now close enough that Durbe could plainly see the captain flailing his arms and hear him shouting panicked orders amidst incoherent outbursts. He studied the man, fiery hair adorned in stolen jewels, pale chest bared to the sun. The scimitar hanging from his belt did not escape Durbe’s notice as his ship slowed. “Follow me!”

          Durbe leapt across the gangplank, leading the fray of naval officers that swarmed the pirates. As his men engaged the criminals, Durbe forced his way through their ranks, eyes trained on the figure attempting to disappear below deck.

          A pirate twice Durbe’s size stepped between him and the hatch, blunderbuss aimed at his chest. “See you in hell.”

          “Admiral!” One of Durbe’s sailors pushed him to the side as the pirate pulled the trigger, collapsing in a bloodstained heap.

          Durbe charged the pirate, bringing his cutlass down on his hand, sending the man reeling backward as he howled in pain. He sliced his blade through the air, severing vital tendons and rendering the man paralyzed. With a glance back at his fallen comrade and a nod of thanks, Durbe dropped through the hatch to pursue his target.

          The hall around him was lined with doors, the muffled sounds of the battle upstairs filtering down through the planks of the ceiling. Durbe ran down the hall, kicking in doors as he went, listening for telltale signs of life. He came at last to the final door leading to the hold. Inside, the room was stacked to the ceiling with barrels of gunpowder and ale, only a narrow path left to navigate. Cautious, Durbe took light steps forward, cringing as his boots tapped against the wood floor. His body was tensed in the silence, preparing for an ambush. He reached the back of the hold without locating the captain. The scent of ale was overpowering. Durbe knelt down and pressed his fingers to the wood; they came back wet and smelling of alcohol.

          A rustling above him caught his attention, his head jerking back to look upward. Lying atop the barrels of gunpowder at the back of the room, gun pointed at Durbe’s head, was the captain, a maniacal grin spread across his face. “Oh no, it looks like I’ve been caught. What _ever_ will I do?” He waved the pistol as Durbe raised his cutlass, tutting and resting his chin in his hand. “Ah ah ah, put that down or I’ll shoot!”

          Durbe’s heart pounded in his chest as he searched for the words to diffuse the volatile situation. “If you shoot, the entire ship goes up in flames, and you’ll be the first to know it.”

          The captain’s expression shifted, stretching into shock of comical proportions. “I hadn’t even _thought_ of that!” He slapped himself on the forehead. “How silly of me!” He placed the barrel of the gun against his temple. “I might as well just kill _myself_!” he sang.

          Hands held in front of himself in supplication, Durbe took a step forward. “If you come quietly with me, I can help you. I’m Admiral Durbe, I have power in the naval courts.”

          Mocking thoughtful, the captain spun the flintlock around his index finger, sending a cold shock of fear down Durbe’s spine. “The big strong man wants to help little old helpless Vector!” He spoke to himself in an infantile tone. “But what if he’s _lying_?” His eyes, purple as the sails of his ship, slid over to rest on Durbe’s. “The big bad admiral wouldn’t do that to me, now, would he?”

          Durbe curled his right fist over his heart. “You have my word.”

          Vector rolled off the barrels, landing barefoot on the wet planks, gun still in hand. “Drop your weapons.” He watched as Durbe placed his cutlass and flintlock on the ground, their eyes locked. He lowered his own gun, no longer bothering to train it on the admiral. Once Durbe had straightened up, a grin spread across his face. “My turn.” Vector’s fingers unfurled and the gun dropped from his hand, falling for a split second before it hit the ground and fired into a barrel of ale. The floor erupted into flames. Vector cackled, unresisting as Durbe grabbed his wrist and pulled him out the door and down the hall, where several of the naval officers were standing.

          Waving his free hand upward, Durbe shouted, “Fire! Get away from this ship!” He felt the wrist in his grip twist free, saw the glint of the jeweled scimitar as Vector charged his men. He jumped, arms wrapping around Vector’s waist and sending them both to the ground.

          “Admiral!”

          “Go!” Durbe wrestled the sword out of Vector’s grip and tossed it down the hall. An explosion rocked the boat, opening the end of the vessel to the light of day and sending debris flying, chunks of wood and metal hitting Durbe’s back in bright flashes of pain.

          Vector’s body twisted beneath the admiral, wild glee marking his features. The ship had begun taking on water even as the fire spread along the ceiling, casting the man’s face in an eerie, sweltering glow. “Looks like we die here together.”

          Durbe glared down at Vector, resigning himself to the watery grave he’d always known would come. “Anything for my crew.”

          Giving a vulgar snort, Vector said, “You’re too noble.” He twisted his fingers into Durbe’s hair as warm ocean water crept over their feet and the fire climbed down the walls toward them. For a fraction of a second, Vector’s expression might have softened before he tugged Durbe’s head down and crushed their lips together, smirking at the shock in the other man’s eyes as they sank into hell, entwined on the floor of the ship.


End file.
